


On the Hunt

by Leela



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Community: Happy Bertidays, First Time, M/M, Masked ball, Riding His Thigh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curiosity stirred in Adam, and for the first time, he was more interested in walking through the doors and into the party than in turning around and going home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meilxoxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meilxoxo/gifts).



> **Betas:** aislinntlc, batdina  
>  **Notes:** Written for meilxoxo for the inaugural [Happy Bertidays](http://happybertidays.dreamwidth.org/) fest on DW.

The car drove through the gates and under an archway created from a latticework of tiny lights. Purple, pink, and blue caught at the edges of Adam's vision, a temporary distraction from the ordeal that was waiting for him at the end of the driveway. 

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into going to this thing," he grumbled. "Mask or no mask, I'm going to be recognized the minute I step in there."

"You didn't _let_ me do shit. You simply agreed that I was right, and your whining and moping over that cheating son-of-a-bitch had reached Shakespearean tragedy levels." For a brief second, Sutan glared at him from Raja's face. Then her expression became haughtier, more imperious, until Sutan was once again hidden inside Raja. "It's been three months, girl, and it was time for you to move on weeks before he fucked you over."

Adam bared his fangs and hissed at her.

"Oh, honey, that shit hasn't scared me in years." Raja blew him a kiss. 

Despite his best efforts, Adam couldn't help smiling at her. "Just don't abandon me to the crazies when they figure out who I am."

"Of course not. I won't abandon you unless you want me to," Raja said, "but you have to keep your side of the bargain. Without that glorious voice of yours, no one will know it's you, I promise."

Before Adam could respond, the car pulled to a halt in front of a set of wide stone steps. Chivalry born centuries earlier had Adam reaching in to assist Raja to get out of the car and wrapping her in a floor-length black velvet cloak to protect the shoulders and neck that her long silver dress left bare. 

At the top, a pair of enormous wooden doors were open to the night, filling the air with light, music, and laughter. A human male stood on either side of the doors, living, breathing statues in black uniforms. They seemed to pay no attention to the car or the group of brightly dressed humans who were sprawled on one side of the steps, but Adam could hear the guards' heartbeats speed up and sense the increased intensity of their attention as he and Raja walked up the steps.

"My lord and lady, we beg your attention for a moment." A man dressed in red and gold sprung up from the steps, pulled off his feathered hat without knocking his mask off, and swept them a very low bow. When he stood up, he grinned impishly.

 _Brad_. Adam groaned inwardly. 

Raja's hand tightened on Adam's arm, reminding him not to speak. He pressed his lips together and gave Brad an imperious nod.

Brad's grin became even more mischievous, almost sly, and Adam had to fight the urge to run. Whether Brad knew who he was or not, this could only lead to disaster. He really should have just stayed home.

"My friends and I," Brad said, with a flourish of his hat at the motley crew behind him, "have a bet going. While some of us believe—" three people raised bottles and cheered "—that it is impossible to find anyone tonight, others—" the rest of them cheered even louder "—disagree. We need someone to help us resolve this most grievous issue."

A waft of perfumed air drew his attention to Raja, who had flicked open her fan and was waving it in his direction. "Of course," she said. "My friend would be happy to help you." 

Adam opened his mouth to object then closed it again. This not speaking thing was going to get old really quickly, he decided. He wasn't even completely sure why he'd agreed or why he was going along with Sutan's suggestions for remaining anonymous at this party.

"With our thanks," Brad said, gesturing for Adam to hold out his hand. "Our friend wears the match to this."

The silver metal of the bracelet that Brad placed on Adam's wrist was warm against Adam's cool skin. It was nothing like he'd ever seen or imagined Brad or anyone in his group of friends owning or wearing. Clearly antique, although at least a century younger than Adam, the bracelet was thick and heavy. It was formed from a pair of snakes that coiled around each other in an elaborate pattern and met, mouth to mouth, at the clasp. 

Curiosity stirred in Adam, and for the first time, he was more interested in walking through the doors and into the party than in turning around and going home to hide from the tabloids and the very public disintegration of the absolute fucking mess that had been his previous relationship.

^V^

Inside, the house was crowded and hot. Adam could smell perfume, sweat, and underneath it all the sweet copper of blood. The rock music that Adam had heard from outside had changed to electronic dance music. The stage at the far end of the ballroom held instruments and a DJ's station operated by a gorgeous woman in emerald green with an elaborate peacock mask.

A man and a woman in costumes that were probably supposed to be Elizabethan squeezed past them, through a space that was far too small for her wide skirts and his hat. Adam reached up to stop his mask from being knocked off and caught a bright flash out of the corner of his eye. 

He turned to see a man staring at him with the red-edged irises that marked a vampire. Deep purple hair fell in waves to the man's shoulders. He wore black and silver skintight leather and high-heeled boots that laced up to mid-thigh. Adam blinked, and then huffed a laugh when he realized that the black and silver half-mask was identical to his own and he was staring at his own reflection in a mirror.

"Told you," Raja said smugly, tucking her hand in the crook of Adam's arm. "Now, let's go find a bar before I die of thirst." 

The first bar they came across was on the opposite side of the ballroom from the stage. It was packed five deep and had a bartender who mixed drinks with so little grace and style that Raja clicked her tongue against her teeth.

"He will not do," she said, studying the sign pinned to the wall. 

A glimpse of bright blond hair and a spicy scent had Adam turning his head, letting Raja decide what to do. Instead, he rose up on his toes so he could see over the man in front of him and searched the people around him. Whoever that had been was gone already. 

"I have found the perfect bar," Raja announced, tapping her fan on a spot to their left.

Adam nodded and let her guide him on a winding path through the crowds. He occasionally checked the arms of each man as they passed but didn't see a match to his bracelet, nor did he see the man who'd captured his attention earlier.

"Raja! You came!" A woman swathed in a rainbow of colors reached out a hand to catch at Raja's hand.

"How could you doubt me?" Raja leaned forward and kissed the air next to the woman's cheeks. "Margrethe, this is my lovely escort, Louis."

Bowing over Margrethe's hand, Adam kissed the air above the large diamond ring. She smelled faintly of rotting fruit. Her blood tainted by one of a hundred possible diseases.

"Well, that wasn't quite rude," one of the women with Margrethe said.

"Oh, honey, don't take offense over something that isn't personal. Louis, doesn't speak to anyone." Raja tossed her hair and smiled at the woman over her fan.

"How boring," the woman responded and turned to Margrethe. "We still haven't found Justin."

"At least he isn't rude," Raja said, taking Adam's elbow again. "Shall we, darling?"

Adam smiled at her and nodded. 

"Actually, Raja," Margrethe said before they could leave. "I'd really appreciate your advice on something, if Louis can spare you for a few minutes."

"I promised Louis the first drink and dance," Raja said. 

"Please." 

Something about the tone of Margrethe's voice told Adam that she almost never said that word to anyone, and he found himself nodding in agreement and removing Raja's hand from his arm.

Tilting her head, Raja gave him a considering glance. "You're sure. I did promise..."

Nodding again, Adam made a shooing motion with his hands. 

Raja smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. I wouldn't but she's very lonely."

Then Adam was alone. He continued making his way through the crowd, mostly ignored. The occasional speculative glance disappeared when Adam didn't say anything in response. He caught glimpses of silver on people's wrists but none of them were anything like the one he wore.

And he indulged his senses. Let them out to play since he was alone and ignored. He tasted the air, scented people's blood, and let himself imagine what it would be like to draw them into an alcove and be himself. None of them were right, though, and he found himself almost missing Daniel. His blood hadn't been perfect, but it had been the closest Adam had found in over a hundred years. 

"Can I help you?" 

The bartender's question drew Adam out of his daze. He stared at the man, and his perfunctory black domino mask, and then at the bottles behind him until he found one that bore a red label with a black rose. He pointed at that and at a large wine glass.

"Cat got your tongue, huh?" The bartender smiled at him. "Don't worry. I won't give away your secret. Just come back to me any time, and I'll give you what you need, okay?"

Smiling at him, Adam resisted the urge to tell him that there was no way that he could give Adam what he needed. He pulled a $5 bill out of his pocket and dropped it in the crystal tip jar. Then he swung around. 

The man was laughing, smiling at a woman with dark hair. He was thin and of medium build for this time and place. His blond hair was shaved on one side, his ears were pierced, and Adam wanted to taste him, to know him.

Cold liquid splashed the floor in front of Adam, and then a glass shattered, scattering pieces over his boots. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." 

Unwilling to speak and take a chance at being delayed, Adam brought his hands together and bowed slightly before heading off in the direction where he'd seen the man, abandoning his blood-wine on the bar. What he found were the fading remnants of that intoxicating scent, and the woman who'd been talking to him. She was laughing with a friend, and for the first time, Adam considering tossing aside his anonymity and interrogating her. 

Then a single guitar note sounded, and she smiled. "That was fast," she said to her friend, and they joined the others who were making their way back to the ballroom.

Another note pierced the babble of conversation, quieting it. Adam followed her, and the faint scent.

Notes became riffs and licks, and the drums and bass joined in, followed by keys. The singer came in last, her voice bouncy and full of energy as she began singing a cover of "I Can't Make You Love Me".

Half-dancing, half-walking, Adam pushed his way through the crowds. By the time he reached the dance floor, the scent became too faint for even his senses. But by then it didn't matter, because he'd already seen the guitarist, and he wanted. More and more as he found his way to a spot at the side of the stage.

The guitarist was dressed all in black, leather and cotton. He bounced on the stage, head-banging, tossing his hair, never completely still. Adam was mesmerized by his hands, by the flex of tendon and muscle as his fingers played the strings, by the veins. By the sweet-spicy scent of his blood.

Adam hummed the songs he knew, tapped his feet to the beat, swayed and rolled his hips to the beat. And when the guitarist came out from behind his pedals for his solo, he stood right in front of Adam, instead of going to center-stage as his band clearly expected. Staring into Adam's eyes, never missing a note, he went to his knees.

He brought his pick up over the strings and, at the top string, his sleeve fell back, exposing a heavy silver bracelet, snakes kissing each other. Adam flattened his hands on the stage, using it to hold him up to hold on, to stop himself from getting up onto the stage, joining him, playing with him. And then he was gone, back behind his pedals and out of Adam's reach.

"Yes," Adam hissed, and the couple beside him flinched and stared at him before sliding away to another part of the dance floor. He ignored them, though, focusing on the guitarist. Tommy, he learned, when the singer, Allison, introduced her band. And when the set was over, and Tommy racked his guitar and headed off-stage, Adam went to follow him. 

Raja and Brad were standing there, off to one side. Both of them were smiling at him. Brad held up his own wrist and clasped his other hand around it. Raja blew Adam a kiss. 

Pretending to catch it, Adam pressed it to his chest, then took off after Tommy.

^V^

Tommy led Adam through a set of glass doors behind the stage and out into the gardens. The path was narrow, and Tommy moved carefully in his heeled boots, occasionally looking over his shoulder as if to check that Adam was still there. Even though, Adam could have caught up easily he stayed a few feet behind, not moving closer until Tommy ducked under a set of trailing vines.

"This could be dangerous," Adam said, as he entered the small walled area. Tommy's scent wasn't stronger than the roses and jasmine, but it was more powerful, more enticing. "I could be dangerous."

"Yeah, you could." Tommy frowned. "But I don't think you are, even though I haven't a fucking clue why not." 

Adam moved closer, until he could almost reach out and touch Tommy. "I'm not... for you."

Licking his lips, clearly nervous, Tommy dragged a hand through his hair, pulling it forward over his face before pushing it back out of the way. Then he took a step forward and then another. 

That close, his scent was overwhelming. Adam's fangs dropped. Need sent an ache ricocheting through him. 

"Oh," Tommy said, reaching up and brushing Adam's hair off his face. "Your eyes. You're a vampire."

"Does that matter?"

"Hell no. It's fucking awesome."

Tension that Adam hadn't really known he was holding disappeared. He fitted a hand to Tommy's neck, feeling Tommy's pulse beat against his palm, and ran his thumb over the edge of Tommy's jaw. Then he kissed him, licked into his mouth, and Tommy opened up for him. 

Adam pressed closer and Tommy stumbled backwards, closer and closer until he had Tommy up against the wall. And all Tommy did in response was to loop his arms around Adam's neck and to part his legs so that Adam could push a thigh between them.

"Fuck," Tommy breathed, as Adam kissed his way over to the sensitive skin just below Tommy's ear. "I don't normally," he said, digging his fingers into Adam's shoulders. "Not with strangers. But fuck if you feel like a stranger."

 _His taste, oh my fuck, his taste_ , was all Adam could think as he dragged his mouth back over to Tommy's and thrust his tongue between Tommy's lips. He tried to be careful, but Tommy didn't. He twined his tongue with Adam's, licked at Adam's teeth, sending shockwaves down from Adam's fangs.

He made an incoherent noise as Adam nipped at his lower lip, ground himself against Adam's thigh as Adam's fangs scraped over the soft skin, and he clutched at Adam when a fang pierced the skin and drew a single drop of blood.

Adam swallowed. The blood was sex and want and need and life, and fucking everything. He cupped a hand under Tommy's tiny ass, pulling Tommy against his thigh. He took off both of their masks, throwing them away, pressed his forehead against Tommy's, and looked into his eyes. "Tell me you want this." It wasn't quite a question or a plea, but it was something of both. "Tell me before it's too late."

"I want this." Tommy kissed him, chastely, softly. "I want you." Another brush of lips. "There's no such thing as too late." And then Tommy rolled his hips, rubbed his hard dick against Adam's thighs. "Take what you need," he said and arched his neck, baring it.

Tommy's pulse thudded rapidly under Adam's lips, but he pushed into Adam's touch, into his mouth, and Adam couldn't resist any longer. He bit down. His teeth went through Tommy's skin, into the vein, and blood pulsed into this mouth. He sucked, drew in more and more, drank more deeply. 

And he pressed his thigh against Tommy's dick, rubbed, and flexed his hand to squeeze Tommy's ass, to press his fingers into the seam of his jeans, against his cleft.

Tommy moaned, moved faster and faster, and the higher he went, the closer he got to orgasm, the sweeter his blood tasted. Sweeter and sweeter, the blood thundered through Tommy's veins, until Adam was aware of nothing but Tommy, his blood, his soul. And then Tommy cried out, and he came, and Adam drank one more mouthful of blood. 

Afterwards, he held onto Tommy, swiped his tongue over the wound in Tommy's throat and made sure it was closed and healing. Food, he thought, and water, but then the thought was lost when Tommy raised his head and smiled at him. 

"We're fucking well going to do that again," Tommy said.

And Adam smiled back. "Yes," he said. "Oh, yes, we are."

They were silent for a few seconds, as they made their way over to the bench in the center of the garden. Adam sat down, and Tommy snuggled in under his arm. He was warmer than Adam, but not warm for a human, and Adam couldn't decide whether to suggest that they should go back inside. It was so comfortable there, so peaceful, with just Tommy and the flowers.

"Hey," Tommy said, running his fingertips over the snake bracelet on Adam's wrist. "You've got one like mine."

"Yes." Adam threaded his fingers through Tommy's, touching their bracelets together. 

"Did they tell you why? Because Allison didn't tell me shit when she made me wear it."

"Something about a bet," Adam said. "It didn't make a lot of sense, but I couldn't exactly argue with them."

"Huh. Hard to get pissed off at them though."

"Very hard." Adam kissed Tommy. "We should go inside," he said. "Get you something to eat, maybe some orange juice."

"Yeah, I suppose. Or you could just take me home and—" Tommy paused and his cheeks flushed pink. "I can't believe I just fucking said that, you know. Never mind—"

"No," Adam said, and cut off Tommy's protest by pressing a finger over his lips. "I think that sounds just about perfect."


End file.
